First thing first so I can get this out and over with:

Maman leaves Saturday. I’m sure it goes without saying that I am a GD wreck about her departure. While a part of me always is every time she leaves, it’s at a whole other heightened level now with FOH here and me in my emotional state.

I simply can’t imagine her leaving and I refuse to acknowledge that she isn’t going to be around on a daily basis to be a part of FOH’s life.

This kills me, People. I’m at a loss. I’ve never felt like I need her more than I do now. Yes, I have TC and Brother and my mother in law, as well as The BF’s brother is here but … they’re not Maman.

No one is and therefore no one comes close. I’ve already cried four times today when I think about Saturday and it’s hindering me enjoying the little time left that we do have.

She’ll leave though. This we know. It’s a given. And she’ll be back. I need to suck it up and be strong about this. Here I am, a mother, crying over my mother leaving.

And I used to think Mothers didn’t cry over these sorts of things. Ha! What little I knew! As though growing up, becoming older and having your own children suddenly means you no longer feel the same about your own Mama.

Today I had a follow up appointment about my boobs. I do believe I’ve talked more about my boobs in the last week than I have in the last couple years on here. Again, this is what childbirth does to you. You’re suddenly all too willing to share what you previously thought was “private” information about your lady parts.

Of course I was thrilled to see McDreamy. We always pack a lot into our visits. Today I suggested she go read The Five Love Languages. I find it hard to believe her man isn’t obsessed with her, since we know I am.

What’s there not to obsess over with her? She’s a successful, gorgeous doctor who has her shit together and loves working out, traveling the world, meditation and … I’ll stop there. Any further and I might start physically drooling.

McDreamy was pretty damn surprised my boob isn’t getting better. If anything, it’s way worse, People. I’ve been on an antibiotic for a little over a week now and I should have noticed a huge difference after 48 hours.

Instead, the pain is ridiculous and radiates around the entire outer part of the boob and when I feed FOH, it’s sharp and shoots up into my armpit. Feeding him is becoming torturous on my left side. I keep wishing I had a tranquilizer gun each time I go to feed him.

I’m trying to stay calm and relaxed but it’s a little challenging to do when you feel like razor blades are coming out of your nipple and both your boobs radiate such shooting, intense pain.

McDreamy ordered up an ultrasound of both boobs and I sweet talked {i.e. told her all about my boobs} the scheduling woman to get me in today in lieu of Monday afternoon, which she said was the soonest available appointment.

FOH was an absolute dream through both of these long appointments. Although in the midst of McDreamy feeling me up, I heard him crying. At first I ignored it and thought it wasn’t him but by the second cry I heard, I knew.

I can’t tell you how incredibly competent I felt as a mother at that moment … knowing and recognizing my baby’s cry. I immediately was nervous because I didn’t want him disrupting the packed waiting room and I didn’t want Maman to have to deal with all that!

McDreamy was fab and told me to go get him and bring him back, which I did and then proceeded to hold up the room we were in for 40 minutes while he fed. 40 minutes! Felt like forever, especially having to prop him up on my knee.

So by the time I got to the hospital for my ultrasound, he was fast asleep and I was thanking my lucky stars he continued to sleep for three hours. I, unfortunately, have no answer on what my boob situation is. The radiologist wasn’t able to give me an in person reading but I know I’ll find out tomorrow from McDreamy.

People — say your prayers over my boobage.

You know, before I had FOH, I thought I’d have way more time than I do. I think some of my friends tried to gently tell me this but I must have had my Bubble Of Peace blinders on about it.

Currently, there is no time. My days seem like there’s always some appointment to go to — either for me or FOH or I’m trying to quickly go somewhere to get something done {i.e. driver’s license}.

When he sleeps, I’m either trying to sleep or steal away some time for myself on here. If I’m lucky, I can get a load of laundry done.

In addition to crying over Maman’s impeding departure, I’ve cried at least three other times over my boobs, over feeling overwhelmed and just plain crying to cry.

This time is so short lived, I get it, but living it feels forever; never ending.

I hear all the time what a wonderful, beautiful thing it is to be a Mother. This is absolutely true. But what is also true is that it’s hard.

F-ing hard.

And exhausting. It’s not roses and chocolate covered strawberries all day long. It’s more like trying not to lose your mind on a daily basis.

But when I look at FOH and see that sweet, innocent face, I don’t question any of this.

There is nothing to question, because he is my already there answer.